To be honest, Catherine did mind his past—at least a little.
But in this moment, that discomfort seemed to dissolve, made insignificant by the sincerity in his confession.
She could feel it—his honesty. Even if his past was disgraceful, he was still willing to uncover it, to lay it bare before her.
If he didn't truly care, who would willingly reveal such wounds?
"I—"
He seemed to want to go on. His expression looked as composed as usual, but when Catherine looked carefully, she noticed a faint trace of panic in his eyes.
What was he afraid of?
Afraid that she would reject him even more because of what he had done?
In Catherine's impression, he had always been someone lofty, always composed. Yet now, he was panicking—because of her.
She couldn't quite describe what she felt, only that… for some reason, it made her heart ache a little.
So she cut him off before he could finish speaking.
"I'm not interested in what your past was like."
